


Tattooed

by cytheriafalas



Category: SHINee, Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2194239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cytheriafalas/pseuds/cytheriafalas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonghyun's in a gang. Taemin is not. Repost from my  lj because I realized it hadn't made the transition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Does the boy mean anything to you?”

Jonghyun’s head jerked up. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. The boy. The one you’ve been sneaking out to see.” Onew snapped his fingers in Minho’s direction, making him look up curiously. “What’s his name?”

“Taemin,” Kibum answered, stepping into the room. He took a moment to make sure the door closed properly behind him. Key held up a sheet of wrinkled paper. “Family name ‘Lee.’ Student at the university near here. Studying history. He works Monday through Wednesday and then Saturday at the local dance school. Fridays he works at the café down the street as a barista. He spends most Thursdays and Sundays at the school library, until about 9 PM when he goes back to his apartment on twenty-sixth. He takes the bus from--”

“ _Enough_!” Jonghyun snapped. He stood and jerked the paper out of Kibum’s grip, but there was only a large smiley face drawn on it in Kibum’s familiar hand. Jonghyun crumpled it and flung it to the ground. “What does Taemin have to do with anything?”

“You know the rules, Jonghyun,” Onew said. “Have you been talking to him?”

“Of course I’ve been talking to him. If you’re asking me if I’ve been telling him that I work for the mob, the answer is no. I’m not going to get him in trouble.”

“People have seen you with him.”

“Who?”

“You know who. The police have already questioned him, but other families are eyeing him, too. A couple have already tried to approach him, but he’s not stupid.”

Jonghyun slung his jacket over his shoulders to cover his tattoos. “I’ve got to go find him.”

Onew grabbed his forearm as he tried to pass. “And what are you going to do with him when you find him?”

Jonghyun looked up into his leader’s eyes, weighing what he saw there against what he knew of Onew, and he knew quite a lot about Onew. Possibly more than anyone alive, except for the other two men in the room. “Bring him back here.”

“You do that and he doesn’t leave here alive. You follow the same rules as everyone else.”

“I’m willing to take my chances here. Where I can protect him.”

He heard Onew sigh and knew he’d won, not that he had any doubt in the first place. If anyone could convince Onew to do something, it would be Jonghyun.

“Key,” Onew said. Kibum didn’t need the rest of the order. He hopped off the table and, with a brief pat to Minho’s head, followed Jonghyun out the door.

It was only a couple of minutes’ drive to the coffee shop where Taemin spent the majority of his Fridays working. That was where they met. The hotel rooms, no matter how luxurious, got stifling. He’d been walking with folder tucked beneath his arm, scuffing his feet through the snow, and Taemin was just stepping into the coffee shop to start his shift. He’d smiled and said Jonghyun looked as though he needed warming up. From there, it was a few weeks of flirting, and then Taemin spent more time drinking coffee than making it while Jonghyun was there.

Kibum whistled, drawing Jonghyun’s attention to the dark green coffee shop door. Jonghyun should have recognized the man that stepped quickly inside, but he couldn’t summon a name to the face. That was Minho’s job. The driver caught Kibum’s whistle and brought the car to a sudden halt.

“Wait here,” Kibum ordered, already pulling the door open and following Jonghyun onto the street, “and be ready to go.”

The coffee shop was empty except for three men standing a little too close to the cash register and Taemin, his eyes wide and only a little intimidated. Jonghyun couldn’t help but be proud of the way the boy handled himself, until he recognized the man in the center.

“Siwon, _back off_ ,” Jonghyun said.

Siwon and his two companions turned slowly, slow enough that Jonghyun knew they weren’t surprised by their entrance. It wasn’t like they were trying to be that sneaky anyway.

“Jjong. Key.”

“Taemin,” Jonghyun called, holding out a hand. “Come here, please.”

Taemin gave him a confused look, but stepped out from behind the counter, taking his outstretched hand. In an abnormal show of submission, he let Jonghyun guide him around behind so both he and Kibum were between Taemin and the other three men.

“This isn’t your territory,” Kibum said. His voice was the quiet, dangerous drawl that still gave Jonghyun chills when he heard it. After all the years in Seoul, his accent had faded, but it always came out at times like these.

“Oh, don’t worry. Jjongie’s ‘territory’ isn’t my type.”

There was really no point pretending they all hadn’t been friends once. They’d grown up together, the way all children in the area did. Then they’d chosen their colors, so to speak, and any childhood loyalty was gone in a haze of gunpowder and blood. Jonghyun had killed his best friend from childhood, but to be fair, he’d pointed the gun at Jonghyun first.

None of that meant Jonghyun took any kinder to anyone encroaching on his ‘territory.’ He took a threatening step forward and the room filled with the sound of clicking guns. Taemin squeaked softly, his hand tightening on Jonghyun’s free one. Jonghyun spared a moment to run his thumb soothingly along Taemin’s hand, but didn’t otherwise react.

There were two guns pointing at Jonghyun, and the third at Kibum. Jonghyun wasn’t all that worried. Key could get off two shots to their one, and everyone knew that. Onew didn’t send Kibum with Jonghyun just because he was pretty, although that had worked in their favor in the past. Regardless, if someone shot first, this was going to be a bloody affair, and none of them could afford that.

“The police have already talked to him. He’s useless to you, now.”

“He’s not useless. Not to me,” Jonghyun said. “You’re going to leave and you’re going to keep your hands off my ‘territory’ or we’re going to have a repeat of last April, and I don’t think your bosses are going to like that.”

The recognition flashed across Siwon’s face. He eyed Jonghyun for just a second as though deciding whether or not he really meant the threat, but eventually he nodded, the gun easing back beneath his jacket. Two more guns followed, and then Jonghyun and Kibum slid theirs away as well. Key’s went in the band of his jeans, the bottom hem of his shirt flipping casually over it. Jonghyun slid his back into the holster on his side, a ‘gift’ from a policeman he once knew. Emphasis on past tense.

They head for the door and Jonghyun nodded to Kibum. “Make sure they go.”

Key grinned and Jonghyun knew he wanted nothing more than an excuse to take Siwon down. They all did, but their hands were tied. Figuratively. And literally, if they made one move outside the agreement.

“Are you okay?” Jonghyun asked, turning back to Taemin.

The boy hardly had a chance to answer before Jonghyun heard a familiar cry. He glanced out the window and saw Kibum drop, a hand clenching around the hilt of a knife buried deep in his bicep.

“Stay out of sight,” Jonghyun said. He was out the door, his gun drawn and pointed directly at Siwon’s head before Taemin had a chance to say anything. Siwon had to have known that if he didn’t deal with this carefully, this was going to be the last thing he ever did. Jonghyun didn’t miss, especially at this distance.

“What’s this about, Siwon?”

“We just want the boy. He’s a danger to all of us now. If he’s not in the family—any family—he needs to be controlled. Kibum,” Siwon’s gun snapped briefly toward where Kibum had been trying to rise, “disagreed.”

“So you’re going to shoot me now?” Jonghyun asked. “We’re in one of those ‘respectable’ neighborhoods. People see things like this going down, they call the cops.”

Right on cue, they hear the bright rise and fall of a siren and Siwon’s head lifted. Jonghyun smiled. Saved. Sort of. Unless they didn’t get out of there in time, in which case Jonghyun was looking at some serious trouble.

“You willing to go to jail over this, Siwonnie?” Jonghyun asked, his voice mocking. “I’m willing to go for him, but then again… I haven’t stabbed anybody today.”

“Technically, that wasn’t me,” Siwon said, but they were edging toward their car. The first one was inside already. The second was leaning down when Kibum sat forward, flinging the knife from his arm toward them. He missed by more than far enough, but the second one still ducked into the car with a surprised sound. Siwon followed a second later and they tore off.

“Fucking Kyuhyun!” Kibum growled, the heel of his hand pressing hard to his shoulder.

“Right! That’s who he was.”

Kibum gave him a look. “Are you serious? Help me up. We need to go.”

The driver had already come around the car and opened the back door. He helped Key into the backseat while Jonghyun went to collect Taemin. The boy stared at him as though he’d never seen him before.

“Taemin? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Taemin said. He was resting his hands on the counter, his lips tight. “Jonghyun, who are you?”

“I’ll tell you everything, but we need to go. I’m sorry to ask you this, but Siwon was just the first. More people will be coming.”

Taemin glanced around the coffee shop. It was still, unsurprisingly, empty. “I’ll get fired if I just leave.”

“Taemin, please. Worse things are going to happen if you stay here.”

“Sir, if we don’t go now, we don’t go at all,” their driver called from the door.

Taemin wavered for only a second before nodding. He paused only long enough to lock the door and slip the keys in the mail slot and then followed Jonghyun to the car.

“Front seat,” Jonghyun said. “I need to take care of Kibum.”

Jonghyun barely noticed the car doors closing or that they began moving. When he shrugged his jacket off, he did hear the soft hiss of breath through Taemin’s teeth. He had to have been guessing before, but the sight of the tattoos had to have confirmed it.

“Kibum, I need you to sit forward for me.”

Key’s face was grey with pain and blood loss. He reached out with his good arm to pull himself forward, letting Jonghyun tug the bloodied shirt over his head. He made a pained whimper when the motion jostled his arm, but otherwise remained silent.

“This is going to hurt,” Jonghyun warned. “A lot.”

Kibum nodded, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. Jonghyun pressed his jacket to the wound and Kibum let out a sound that was half scream and half curse. Jonghyun put his arm halfway around Kibum, trying his best to comfort him. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

“We need a doctor,” he said as soon as he heard the click and inhalation that signified Onew was on the line.

“What happened?”

Kibum must have heard because he said, “Kyu-fucking-hyun is what happened. Whoever let him touch a knife when he was a child must have been insane!”

 “Good to know Kibum’s okay,” Onew said. “I’ll get a doctor here.”

True to his word, a doctor was waiting when the car pulled up. He pulled a pale-faced, cursing Kibum from the car and through one of the back doors. Jonghyun and Taemin strolled casually in through the front.

The people at the hotel were familiar enough with them that they didn’t even look twice at Jonghyun with his tattoos bared for the world to see. Taemin gained a little bit of interest, but as soon as they saw Jonghyun’s arm around his waist, they all quickly looked another direction.

Rather than heading toward the suite where Onew and Minho would doubtless be waiting for an explanation about why Kibum had a stab wound on what was supposed to just be a quick pickup, he went instead to his private room. It was small, but he was hardly ever there anyway.

He let Taemin in and then locked the door behind them, mentally willing Onew to have a little bit of patience. Taemin sank down on the bed and looked up at Jonghyun expectantly.

“Are you okay?” Jonghyun asked.

Taemin nodded slowly as though he weren’t quite sure of the answer himself. “Who are you?” he asked, repeating the question he’d asked before Jonghyun had essentially kidnapped him from the coffee shop.

Rather than sitting at his side, which is what he normally would have done, Jonghyun took the little chair at the desk, turning until he was facing Taemin. The room wasn’t large enough to give them much more space than they would have had if he had sat on the bed as well.

“Taeminnie, I really am the person you know. I’m just…”

“Working for the mafia?”

Jonghyun shrugged as though the sharpness of his voice wasn’t of any consequence to him. “Yeah.”

Taemin reached out hesitantly, fingers tracing the panther that crawled down Jonghyun’s right arm, then skipped to the three parallel lines running horizontal across his bicep. He pressed his palm to the dragon curling around the lines.

“So this is why I’ve never seen you without a jacket,” he murmured.

“Is it bad?” Jonghyun wasn’t ashamed of the tattoos. He was proud of what he’d done to earn them, working his way up until he answered only to Onew. There were others above them, but in their tight-knit group, it was only Onew and Jonghyun at the top.

“Unusual. You don’t seem the type.”

Jonghyun reached up to take Taemin’s hand, waiting for him to pull away, but he didn’t, letting Jonghyun guide his hand down from the tattoos and onto their almost-touching knees.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that I’m not the type, ‘cause I am. I worked _hard_ to earn these. I’ve killed people, and I will do it again if I need to.”

“Will I be one of those people?”

“No.”

“Even if they tell you to?”

“If anyone tells me to kill you, it will be the last thing they do.”

Taemin let out a soft laugh, his head bowing. “So when… Siwon,” he looked up to make sure he had the right name, “said I need to be controlled…”

“We have rules. We may all fight over territory and money and… services… but there are a few rules we do not break. I broke one. Well, technically, I didn’t. But it’s assumed that when one of us starts spending too much time outside the family that we’re either talking with the police or spilling secrets we shouldn’t be. I wasn’t doing either, but that’s what it looks like. If Siwon had been doing it, or even Kibum, we’d have moved in hard and put a stop to it. I wasn’t careful enough with you. I… got distracted.”

To his credit, Taemin didn’t ask any questions about the ‘services’ to which Jonghyun was referring.

“Am I a prisoner here?”

Jonghyun hesitated. “No.”

“Can I leave, then?”

He hesitated again. “Not by yourself.”

“So I am.”

“It’s not like that. This is for your safety. We need to convince Onew you’re not a threat, and he trusts me so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, and then he needs to convince everyone else. That could be harder.”

“So what about my parents?”

“We’ve got people watching them. They’ll be fine.” Jonghyun waited for the next question, but it never came. At last he squeezed Taemin’s fingers gently. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

Jonghyun leaned forward and kissed the corner of Taemin’s lips. “Then trust me. Onew’s got pull. It may take a little while, but we’ll get everything figured out. You’ll be able to go back to school and work—maybe not at the coffee shop, but you hated it there—like nothing happened.”

“Except everyone will know I’m dating a gangster.”

“Is that a problem?”

Taemin grinned up at him, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. “Not at all. Actually, it’s a little hot.”

Jonghyun groaned. “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

Somehow, a few seconds later, Taemin had gotten Jonghyun’s shirt off and maneuvered him backwards onto the bed. His hands trailed up Jonghyun’s stomach, his lips and tongue pausing over each one of Jonghyun’s dozens of tattoos.

Taemin had made it to the eagle spread across Jonghyun’s chest when Jonghyun caught Taemin’s wrists and pulled his arms out from under him, sending him tumbling flat onto Jonghyun. He flipped them over, nipping at the soft skin of Taemin’s throat. He made a soft noise, tipping his head back and giving Jonghyun better access.

“I told you you were going to get into trouble,” Jonghyun murmured.

Taemin laughed, his fingers winding into Jonghyun’s hair. “I think you’ll find I can take care of myself.”

“Please tell me that’s a challenge.”

“Yeah, that’s a challenge.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jonghyun slipped his hand beneath Taemin’s shirt, his fingers playing across the smooth skin of his stomach. He was sliding the fabric up when someone started pounding on the door. Jonghyun swore.

“ _Minho what the hell_?!”

“Onew’s looking for you.”  
  
Taemin swore that time and Jonghyun gave him a brief smile, leaning down to kiss him. In the intervening silence, Minho pounded on the door again. Jonghyun purposely ignored the sound for a few more seconds, letting his tongue tangle lazily with Taemin’s.

“Kim Jonghyun, I have the key to your room and I am willing to drag you out of there with your mouth still attached to whatever part of the boy it’s attached to.”

“Fucking fuck, Minho!” Jonghyun growled. He kissed Taemin on the temple. “I’ll be back as soon as I shove him down the back stairs. And meet with Onew.”

Jonghyun took a few moments to disentangle himself from Taemin, and in those few moments, Minho used the key Jonghyun hadn’t actually believed he had and opened the door. Taemin sat up quicker than Jonghyun had ever seen him move, tucking his knees up to his chest, even though he was still fully clothed. Jonghyun tugged his shirt over his head. “ _Really_?”

“Yes. Onew wants to talk to you now. Both of you.”

Taemin’s eyes widened, his face going blank with fear. Jonghyun sat beside him, running his fingers through Taemin’s mussed hair.

“Onew just wants to see you. I’m not letting him send you away.” He kissed Taemin’s forehead and ruffled his hair more or less back into place. “Are you ready?”

Taemin took Jonghyun’s hand and followed him and Minho out the door. Jonghyun drew him up by his side when they paused outside the suite doors and they stepped through together. Onew was talking to the doctor in a quiet voice, but he glanced up when the three of them walked in.

“How’s Key?” Jonghyun asked.

“Fine,” the doctor said, when it became apparent that Onew wasn’t going to answer. “His arm’s out of commission for a while, but it’ll heal fine. He’s just upset because the scar goes right through the neck of his dragon.”

Jonghyun snorted. “He would be. Tell him I’ll visit later, yeah?”

The doctor bowed and escaped from the room. Onew took a single breath and then rounded on Jonghyun.

“What the  _fuck,_  Jonghyun.”

It clearly wasn’t a question, so Jonghyun bit his tongue and stood silent. He didn’t look away, but he didn’t say anything. He gave Taemin a quick hug and then stepped aside, putting a few feet between Taemin and Onew.

“You decide, without my permission, to get involved with the kid and then Kibum gets stabbed. Siwon’s  _pissed_. If he’s pissed, you know I’m going to have to deal with Leeteuk and fuck if I want to do that.”

“You--”

“I am not done.”

Jonghyun fell silent. He’d known Onew was furious, but he wasn’t at all prepared for the punch that landed hard on his jaw. He gritted his teeth and stayed where he was, ignoring the pain flaring along the entire side of his face.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” Jonghyun must have hesitated just a little too long in answering because Onew’s hand fisted in his shirt and shoved him back against the wall. “Do you have any  _fucking_ idea what you’ve done?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Just… fuck, Jonghyun. I have Yongguk and JR breathing down my neck and they’ve hardly been around long enough to be allowed to have any say. Yunho’s the only one staying quiet so far, but if--”

“He’ll side with us,” Jonghyun said quietly. “You remember what happened a few years back. Besides, the rest of them are so young no one will give a fuck what they think. As long as Yunho and Leeteuk disagree, and when don’t they?, we’ll be okay.”

“He had damn well better be worth it.”

“He is.”

Onew let out an annoyed noise and released Jonghyun. “I’m protecting you as far as is safe. If letting you go keeps us in business…”

“I understand.”

“Get out of my sight. Both of you.”

Jonghyun caught Taemin’s hand as he passed, letting themselves out of the suite. He stayed quiet until they reached his room and he locked the door again, slamming the key down on the counter as he walked by. Taemin followed in his wake, chewing at his lip.

“Jonghyun?” he asked at last.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Jonghyun turned to face him, a perplexed look on his face. “Huh?”

Taemin pressed his fingers gently to Jonghyun’s cheek.

He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips to Taemin’s palm. “It’s nothing, Taemin, really. I’ve had worse. Onew’s given me worse.”

As his teeth rasped across Taemin’s palm, that look crossed Taemin’s face again and Jonghyun only barely had time to prepare himself for Taemin’s hands yanking the shirt off his body for the second time that day. He picked up right where he left off, tracing part of the eagle’s wing with his mouth and then moving over to the serpent that began its coil on the inside of Jonghyun’s left shoulder.

“You really like my tattoos, don’t you?”

Taemin dragged his teeth across the flames surrounding the phoenix by way of answer. Jonghyun’s heart stuttered, leaving him short of breath.

“My little Taemin likes it rough?”

The sound Taemin made was answer enough. Jonghyun grabbed a fistful of Taemin’s hair and tugged his head back, baring his throat. Taemin’s arm went around Jonghyun’s waist, fingers digging in almost hard enough to hurt.

“You haven’t even seen the ones on my back yet,” Jonghyun whispered, nipping at Taemin’s earlobe.

It was incredible to watch the effect those words had on Taemin. He pressed himself closer, fingers skating across Jonghyun’s back as though he could feel the difference between ink and skin. He whined when Jonghyun’s hand tightened again, but didn’t do anything to reduce the pain, if anything he pulled a little harder against it.

“You deserve to be properly romanced and seduced,” Jonghyun said, walking Taemin backwards to the bed. He shoved Taemin back onto it. “But there’s going to be time for that later. Now…” He eased himself over Taemin’s body, running a hand down the younger man’s heaving chest. He caught the fabric of Taemin’s shirt and pulled it off, lowering his lips to Taemin’s chest.

Jonghyun ran his tongue across Taemin’s left nipple, thumb brushing simultaneously over his right one. Taemin cried out, maybe louder than he should have for a hotel room, but Jonghyun hardly cared. All he cared about was finding all of the places on Taemin’s body that made him writhe.

Between the two of them fumbling with each other’s clothing, he found as many of them as he had patience for. The spot just below his jaw made his hands clench on anything he could reach, the outer shell of his ear made his breath catch in his throat, the dip in the front of his pelvis made him arch, he cried out the most beautiful things when Jonghyun nipped gently at the inside of his thighs. Even his wrists made him make soft whimpering noises when Jonghyun kissed him there.

There was one fairly tempting part of Taemin’s anatomy that Jonghyun had purposely ignored, even when Taemin had begged. Jonghyun kissed Taemin’s thigh one more time, taking a few seconds to press his tongue to the skin, and then slid his body up Taemin’s. He was almost shaking with need, but Jonghyun wasn’t willing to let him have his way just yet.

“Grab the headboard.”

“What?”

“I don’t exactly carry cuffs on me, and the closest thing I have to rope here is shoelaces, and I don’t really have the patience to unlace my shoes just so I can tie you up. Grab the headboard.”

Taemin let out a soft moan, his hands rising slowly to grab the bars. He was panting, body arching to follow the trails Jonghyun’s fingertips took down his body.

“Good boy.” As a reward, he ran the tip of his tongue up Taemin’s cock. Taemin let out a breathy moan, his hands clenching on the headboard, making the lean muscles in his arms stand out. Jonghyun laughed, letting his warm breath gust across Taemin’s skin. “Eager?”

Taemin nodded, biting his lip so hard Jonghyun thought he might make himself bleed. He reached up to tug the skin free from Taemin’s teeth.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” That made Jonghyun pause and he sat back, running his fingers soothingly across Taemin’s side. “You  _have_  done this before, right? I mean… I’m not completely debauching an innocent, am I?”

The younger man laughed, fixing Jonghyun with a look. “It’s been a while, but no.”

“Good. I would hate for you to have to tell your mother your first time was with a gangster.”

“Oh god, don’t talk about my mother right now.”

Jonghyun slapped Taemin’s hip with a laugh. He crawled up Taemin’s body again, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and pulling away before Taemin could deepen it any. He let out a disappointed whine when Jonghyun pressed his fingertip to Taemin’s forehead, pushing him back to the bed.

“I’m getting you a gift, little one. Don’t be so impatient, and don’t let go.”

“You’d be impatient if you were me,” Taemin grumbled. He pouted prettily and Jonghyun had to kiss him once more, brandishing the lube when Taemin tried to make him kiss him properly. That shut him up, his eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

Jonghyun let his nails drag down Taemin’s chest and stomach as he kissed his way back down. He ran his hand along the underside of Taemin’s leg, urging him to part his legs a little more. He spread some of the lube on his fingers and then slid his first finger in just to the first knuckle. Taemin whined, hips pressing down for more.

“Mm-mm,” Jonghyun murmured, “not yet.”

“Jjong…”

There was something intoxicating about the way Taemin said his nickname, hearing the vowels roll off his tongue mid-moan. Jonghyun slid his finger the rest of the way in, adding his middle finger a few seconds later. He saw Taemin’s left hand come off the headrest and Jonghyun pulled his fingers free.

Taemin looked as though he were going to have a few choice words for him, but Jonghyun leaned up, catching Taemin’s free arm in his hand and pinning it to the bed.

“What did I say?” Jonghyun asked, letting his voice go just a little deeper and more dangerous.

“Too slow,” Taemin retorted, but that smile was playing across his lips again, making Jonghyun wonder exactly what it was he didn’t know about this boy. He smirked down at Taemin, sliding his fingers back inside, making him cry out again. Those teeth caught his lower lip again, drawing Jonghyun’s eyes straight there.

He directed Taemin’s hand back to the headboard and then leaned in, kissing him deeply. When they broke apart, he said, “There’s no way something as incredible as you is legal.”

“Is that your pickup line?” Taemin asked. He had to pause midway through as Jonghyun added his ring finger.

“I’ve never used it before,” Jonghyun said. “Does it work?”

Taemin looked as though he were considering it, hands clenching on the bars and the lean muscles in his arms stretching as he fought to keep himself still. “It’s a good thing I’m dating a member of the mafia, then.”

Jonghyun laughed, kissing him once more. “You ready?”

“God, yes, I am.”

“My impatient one,” Jonghyun murmured. “We’ll train that out of you, yet.”

It was Taemin’s turn to laugh, dropping the bars and wrapping an arm around the back of Jonghyun’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Jonghyun didn’t even chastise him, letting their hips roll together while they fought for dominance in the kiss. Taemin kept surprising him. Even his few male lovers had never been so insistent in asserting that they weren’t completely submissive. Not that that was going to make Jonghyun give in at all.

They finally broke apart just before Jonghyun had determined that breathing was really an unnecessary part of their biology. Taemin sent Jonghyun another one of those challenging looks that somehow managed to make his heart pound and stop simultaneously.

“You know,” Taemin began, “dancers aren’t just flexible on stage.”

“What are you suggesting?”

Taemin rolled them over, kissing Jonghyun when he started to protest. “We’ll start simple. We’ve got time for the rest of it.”

He slung his leg over Jonghyun’s hips, rising up on his knees and then sinking down before Jonghyun even had time to protest about the myriad of things they should have made sure to do first, not least of which was making sure Taemin was actually ready. That disappeared from his mind pretty quickly when Taemin’s back arched, a shaky breath escaping his lips. He was so tight and hot that, if not for the way his hips were rolling, Jonghyun would have sworn he really were a virgin. Jonghyun grabbed his waist, holding him steady while his body caught up with his intentions.

Taemin’s throat worked as he tried to swallow. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on Jonghyun’s chest, hands landing right on the eagle’s wingtips. Jonghyun ran his hands up Taemin’s arms, drawing his attention back up. At his unspoken question, Taemin just smiled.

“I’m fine. I am really, really fine. It’s been a while.”

Jonghyun could feel Taemin’s muscles working around him and his hands tightened on Taemin’s wrists. He began to roll his hips in that incredibly erotic way Jonghyun had seen him do when he showed off dance moves.

He rocked up on his knees and then slid back down hard enough to make lights flash behind Jonghyun’s eyes. He grabbed Taemin’s hips again, helping him move faster. Taemin  was panting, crying out every time their bodies met, head bowed and droplets of sweat sliding down his neck.

He took Taemin’s cock in his hand and Taemin cried out again, hands raking down Jonghyun’s chest, drawing pink lines through the eagle’s wings and into the four-pointed star beneath it. Jonghyun swore, back arching and fingertips digging into Taemin’s waist. Jonghyun slid his hand around to press against Taemin’s stomach. He could feel the muscles shifting, tensing and relaxing as Taemin moved.

“Jonghyun…”

Taemin’s muscles tensed beneath Jonghyun’s fingers again, head thrown back. A few seconds later he came, his body tightening around Jonghyun so much that it tore the breath from his throat. He came just after that, calling out Taemin’s name loud enough that he was sure someone had to have heard them.

Taemin’s body slouched forward, hand reaching out to catch himself on the wall. Jonghyun caught him by the waist, easing him down to the bed at his side and propping himself up on one elbow to look at Taemin’s face. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

“Taemin?”

His eyes opened and he tilted his head slightly to look over at Jonghyun. “Yeah?”

“Come here,” Jonghyun said, holding his arm out. Taemin curled up against his side, resting his head on Jonghyun’s chest. Taemin ran his fingers over the rope tattoo low on Jonghyun’s waist.

“You’re gonna tell me about these someday, right?”

Jonghyun kissed Taemin’s cheek. “Someday.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jonghyun’s head rolled back, his hand fisting in Taemin’s hair, pushing his head down further. He opened his mouth to apologize, but that broke into a ragged moan when Taemin didn’t even choke, fitting a little more in his mouth.

He swore, hips rocking up again. “Taemin—ah,  _fuck_ —Taemin, stop.”

Taemin pulled back slowly, the flat of his tongue dragging up the length of Jonghyun’s cock, whining slightly in disappointment as he did.

“Why?” Taemin asked.

His voice was so beautifully rough that all the self-control Jonghyun had harnessed to not come in Taemin’s mouth almost flew right out the window. He managed to save enough of it to keep from coming right then, but not enough to keep him from grabbing Taemin around the waist and flipping him to the bed, pinning him in place with his hands and hips.

“Because I really, really want to be inside you again.”

Taemin made a desperate sound, almost whimpering in want, but his voice was steady, teasing. “What, again? Four times?”

“Are you complaining?” Jonghyun countered, pressing himself down. Taemin’s back arched, body rolling down and then up against Jonghyun again. “I’ll… ugh… take that as a no.”

Taemin mouthed along Jonghyun’s collarbone, teeth nipping every few kisses. “Well, I should still be stretched enough from last time…”

Jonghyun wanted to pretend that hearing words like that out of Taemin’s lips, which, despite having been wrapped around Jonghyun’s cock only a few seconds before, still looked remarkably innocent, didn’t make his stomach clench with pure need. He reached out blindly for the lube, knocking the lamp off the edge before he managed to grab it. Taemin laughed, hand tangling in Jonghyun’s hair and jerking his head down for another kiss.

“Come on, Jonghyun,” Taemin whispered, voice pleading. “Come on, I want to feel you again, I need to feel you again, Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun hurried his way through the lube and then settled himself between Taemin’s legs. “You’re sure you don’t need--”

“Yes! Just--”

He grabbed Taemin’s hips and slid in, unable to hold back the deep moan that built in his throat. “Still so tight, Taeminnie. God.”

Taemin’s hands clenched, nails digging into Jonghyun’s lower back. Jonghyun was going to have red crescents all over his back at the rate they were going, and he could hardly care less. Taemin looked so incredible beneath him, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted.

He made quiet sounds, half moan and half cry, with each of Jonghyun’s thrusts. His fingers were interlaced behind Jonghyun’s back, right where the two strands of the rope twisted around one another before looping the second time around his hips.

“So good, Jonghyun,” Taemin panted. “Feels so good.”

The words stoked Jonghyun’s ego, and he smirked down at the younger man. “Yeah?”

Taemin’s eyes opened. “You’re so— _ah, ah!­_ —cocky.”

“You love it,” Jonghyun said. He really couldn’t have timed his words better, because right as he spoke, Taemin’s body tensed around him and his back arched off the bed.

“ _Oh_  god. Again, Jonghyun! That. I--”

Jonghyun repeated the movement and Taemin cried out again, catching Jonghyun’s lip in his teeth and tugging on it. The tip of Taemin’s tongue traced Jonghyun’s lip, sucking it into his mouth and biting down. He let go with a gasp when Jonghyun did it again.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Taemin breathed. “God, Jonghyun, I want… I need… Please…”

Taemin reached between them to begin stroking himself, but Jonghyun caught his wrist, pinning him back to the bed. The younger man whined, body writhing on the bed beneath him, his head tipped back and body arched.

“Look at me,” Jonghyun whispered, biting at the angle of his jaw until Taemin’s chin dropped and their eyes met. “You’re going to come, but you’re not allowed to touch yourself.”

“I can’t--”

“You can if I say you can.”

Taemin’s eyes closed, but any worries Jonghyun had about actually living up to his promise faded when his eyes opened. They were almost clouded with lust, his body clenching tight. He was so close already, Jonghyun could see it. He was panting, nails scratching down Jonghyun’s back, crying out half phrases that only barely made sense. The welts stung a little as his sweat dripped into them, drawing a soft curse from Jonghyun’s mouth.

“I want to feel you come,” Jonghyun said, his voice ragged. “Come for me.”

Jonghyun leaned down to kiss him just in time, catching his cry in his mouth as Taemin came, untouched. Jonghyun followed just a second later, almost collapsing on top of the younger man with the force of it. He managed to ease himself to the side before he fell to the bed, panting.

Taemin pushed closer to him, head resting against Jonghyun’s shoulder. He laughed softly, lifting his head to demand the kiss that Jonghyun gave him.

“Why’re you laughing?”

“Because yesterday I was busy trying to figure out how I could get you to hold my hand. Now we’ve had sex three, no, four times and it’s just… What time is it?”

Jonghyun rolled over, glancing at the hotel’s standard clock. He rolled back, tucking Taemin back in his arms. “Just after four in the morning.”

“The sun will be up soon,” Taemin said, fingers running along Jonghyun’s back. “And then I can see your tattoo.”

“I’m beginning to think that’s the only reason you’re still here.”

Taemin kissed the underside of Jonghyun’s jaw, his tongue darting out for just a second. “The sex is great.”

Jonghyun laughed that time, eyes sliding closed. “We have a few more hours to try get some real sleep before you have to face Onew again.”

The younger man groaned and then curled a little closer. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stand tomorrow. How am I supposed to face him?”

Jonghyun chuckled and let himself drift to sleep, comfortable with Taemin in his arms. When he woke up, he was lying on his stomach and Taemin’s fingers were tracing something on his back.

“Good morning,” Taemin chirruped, as though the previous night hadn’t even happened, except they were both still very naked, Taemin unashamedly so. “What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” Jonghyun asked, peering over his shoulder at Taemin’s crouched form.

“A tree.”

“Well that’s what it is, then.”

Taemin traced it with his fingertips, the trunk running up the center of Jonghyun’s back and across the branches and leaves that spread out across his shoulders. Then he started tracing something else within the tree and Jonghyun braced himself for that conversation.

It took a little longer than he expected, but Taemin eventually drew in a breath. “What’re these?”

“Names,” Jonghyun said. “People I’ve… I’ve been doing this for sixteen years. I’ve lost a lot of people. Friends and people that were practically family to me. That’s all of them.” He hesitated and then rolled over, tugging Taemin down and into his arms. “I don’t ever want to have to add your name to that list, do you understand me? Don’t go out and get yourself hurt because of what I’m getting you involved in.”

Taemin pressed his lips to Jonghyun’s in a gentle kiss. “I need to take a shower.”

Jonghyun frowned at him. “Taemin, I’m serious.”

“So am I. I feel disgusting. I probably smell like nothing but sex.”

Jonghyun bit his lips, trying to read Taemin’s face. After a few moments, he gave up. “Go shower.”

“Come with me,” Taemin said.

“God, where do you get your stamina, little one?” Jonghyun asked, but he stood, walking Taemin to the shower with his arms around the younger man’s bare waist. Taemin leaned down to turn the water on, stepping in as soon as it warmed enough. Jonghyun followed him in, hands skimming across Taemin’s skin.

Aside from a few brief moments where Jonghyun got distracted by the taste of Taemin’s skin or Taemin’s fingers skated along inked lines, the shower was actually over fairly quickly. Taemin had to dress in his pants from the day before, Jonghyun’s falling a few inches too short, but he pulled on one of Jonghyun’s shirts, a dark short-sleeved one that Jonghyun was pretty sure had never looked as good on him as it looked on Taemin.

Taemin paused just inside the doorway, reaching up to touch a tender part of Jonghyun’s cheek, the bruise from the previous day. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you I’ve gotten worse from him. It’s just how we do things here. I’ve given the same to Minho more than once.”

“I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“It’s my fault. I knew what I was doing. I should have stayed away, at least until I got Onew’s permission to get you involved, but I didn’t. Don’t ever think this is your fault, little Taemin.”

They made their way to the suite, hair still damp, and Taemin gradually fell silent as they walked. Jonghyun squeezed his hand and then pushed open the door. Kibum and Minho were sitting already, plates heaped with food. Kibum looked up when Jonghyun stepped in.

“How’s the arm?” Jonghyun asked.

“ _Four times_?!” Kibum demanded. Jonghyun jumped a little in surprise. “I think half the  _floor_ heard you, Jonghyun, Jesus fuck.”

Taemin made a sound of pure mortification. Jonghyun just smirked, pulling Taemin in against his side, nosing at the side of Taemin’s throat, drawing their attention to one of the marks from that night. “If you had this pretty little thing in your bed, do you think you would have settled for one?”

“Jonghyun,” Taemin whispered, horrified.

He just laughed, tugging Taemin to the table. Taemin sat beside Minho, sending a nervous look Kibum’s direction.

“But really, how’s your arm?”

“Fine,” Kibum said. “I can’t do much with it, but it’s nothing serious. It’ll heal.”

“I’m sorry,” Taemin offered. Jonghyun was a little surprised he’d spoken up, with how intimidated he’d looked.

Kibum just smiled. “Don’t worry, kid. If Jonghyun thinks you’re worth it, a little knick’s not enough to convince me otherwise, but a repeat of last night might change things.”

The door flew open and Onew stepped out. He looked furious, but it was directed down at the phone in his hand, rather than any of them.

“We need to be downtown in an hour and a half. Everyone eat up; it’s going to be a rough morning.”

“Who called?” Jonghyun asked.

“Leeteuk. He’s demanding a meeting.”

Jonghyun felt Taemin shrink back in the chair next to him. He took Taemin’s hand and rubbed his thumb gently along his knuckles.

“Who’s going to be there?”

Onew took the empty seat on Kibum’s other side, filching a bite of food from the younger man’s plate. “Everyone. Leeteuk and Yunho, Yongguk and JR, Jiyong and Seungho.”

“None of the girls?” Jonghyun asked at the same time Kibum’s eyes lit up and he said, “Oh, so that means Joonie will be there too?”

Onew ignored Kibum with the grace that only came from years of practice. “Only BoA and Taeyeon. The rest of them are busy with their war.”

Jonghyun pursed his lips. “Onew, can I talk with you outside?”

His leader nodded and the two of them stepped into the hallway. Neither of them had any real concern about being overheard there. The hotel owner owed them a great deal, and part of that was complete run of this floor.

“How bad is it, really?”

“It’s about what we thought it would be. The police have been nosing around his family. CCTV has him leaving with you. Leeteuk says they think he went willingly, but they’re hunting him pretty hard.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Onew sighed, rubbing at his forehead. Jonghyun reached automatically for the painkillers he usually carried in his pocket, but he’d been thinking of other things that morning.

“How’s his family? They’re not being hurt?”

“Jjong, it’s the  _police_. What the hell do you think they’re going to do?”

Jonghyun ran his hand through his hair, leaning against the wall and letting his head fall back against it. “What do you want us to do?”

“Do you love him?”

Jonghyun blinked. “I—yeah. I do.”

“Then you’re doing everything you can do. Don’t let him go home yet.”

“Jinki, if we get fucked over all this, it’s my fault. I’m not letting that happen.”

“I’m not letting it happen either. Jjong, don’t worry. Go back in there and eat with the boy.”

“He’s really not that much younger than we are,” Jonghyun offered.

“Seems that way, though.” Onew rubbed at his forehead again and Jonghyun dug into his pockets one last time. His fingers caught a piece of folded paper and he pulled it out, pressing the painkiller into Onew’ hand.

“Maybe we’re just too old. Take it, get some sleep. I’ll tell Leeteuk we can’t come for a few more hours.”

“Jjong--”

“Go,” he said. “I’ll take care of the other leaders. You’re no good to us like this.”

Onew squeezed Jonghyun’s forearm and headed down the hall toward his room, fingertips pressing to his temple. Jonghyun stepped back into the suite to find three sets of eyes staring at him.

“He’s sick again,” he said, taking a seat beside Taemin. “It’ll buy you a couple of hours before you have to meet the rest of the leaders.”

“Did you give him one of the pills?” Kibum asked.

Jonghyun nodded. “Yeah, so eat up. I need to call Leeteuk and make our excuses. Hopefully I can get us another day, even.”

Kibum stood. “I’ll go take a look.”

“Let him sleep,” Minho protested, but Kibum was already out the door.

Jonghyun put his arm around Taemin’s shoulders. “Eat something, Taeminnie. You’re going to need your strength for this.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jonghyun managed to get them the entire day free, rescheduling the meeting for nine the next morning. Once Taemin finished eating, shooting sidelong glances at Key the entire time, he swept him back to their bedroom, much to Minho’s displeasure. He was growing ridiculously fond of the boy for having only met him once.

Taemin curled against his side in the bed, eyes drooping closed. “Aren’t you tired?”

He ran his fingers through Taemin’s hair and kissed the top of his head. “Exhausted actually. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Shut up,” Taemin laughed. “You’re, what?, twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-seven, thank you very much.”

Jonghyun tilted Taemin’s head up and kissed him. Taemin was an incredible kisser, quick nips and lingering strokes of his tongue. He smiled against Jonghyun’s lips and after one more quick peck, curled back against him.

“Get some sleep,” Jonghyun said, running his hand down Taemin’s back. “We have time today.”

Taemin smiled and took Jonghyun’s hand. His eyes drifted closed and eventually his breathing evened out in sleep. Jonghyun was considering going to sleep as well when someone knocked quietly on his door. He gently extricated himself from Taemin’s grip and peered out the door. He opened it and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

“What’s up, Kibum?”

“We’ve got work to do.”

Jonghyun eyed the bandage on Key’s arm. “You’re good to go with us on this?”

Key shrugged. “It’s you, me, and Minho. Onew figures if we get into trouble the two of you will be enough to scare them off.”

Jonghyun glanced back at the door behind which Taemin slept, but he nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

The car was already waiting for them in front of the hotel. Jonghyun and Minho had tugged jackets on, despite the early-autumn warmth. Key was, well, Key, in a sleeveless shirt, flaunting both his tattoos and the bandage.

He sidled up to Jonghyun’s side and pointed with his head at a dark car parked just down the street. Police. “Your friends are here.”

“It’s a good thing you left Taemin inside,” Minho added. “They’d probably swoop in and snatch him right out from under you.”

“Not possible,” Jonghyun said, voice terse. “They’re not going to fucking touch him.”

“He’s safe in the hotel, Jjong,” Key said. “No one’s going to be able to get him, not with everyone there.”

With that, they climbed into the car, Minho in the front and Jonghyun and Key in the back. It was an easy enough job. They just had to show up at a business, remind the owner about what he owed them, and move on. They were gone maybe an hour, but when they came back, the entire hotel was in an uproar.

Jonghyun hardly waited for the car to stop before he jumped out and ran for the door. He caught one of the valets by the back of his shirt, spinning him around.

“What happened?”

The valet was terrified, Jonghyun knew he should have tried to stay a little calmer, but all he managed was to tighten his grip until Minho was pulling him away, back just a few steps. Key shoved past him, reaching to grab the valet, but Minho caught him, too.

“I-It was right after you left. Five or six squad cars came up, they grabbed… um, the boy you were with, dragged him out. No one even had time to stop them or call anyone.”

“Where’s Onew?”

“U-upstairs. H-He disappeared as soon as they left.”

Jonghyun took the stairs three at a time, foregoing the elevators entirely. Minho and Key followed a few steps behind, catching up with him just as he slammed through the door to the suite.

Onew spun, his phone in his hand. He gave Jonghyun a long look and then said quietly, “I’m going to need to call you back.”

Jonghyun grabbed Onew by his collar, shoving him backwards and sending his phone skittering across the floor. He ignored the startled shout from Kibum.

“Where the  _fuck_  is he? What did you do?”

“Jjong, let me go.”

“The hell I will--”

“I am not saying anything until you let go.”

“Onew, I swear to god--”

“Let… me… go.” Onew’s voice was sharp and Jonghyun knew he didn’t really have any choice. He loosened his grip just a little, but couldn’t make himself let go entirely just yet.

Kibum and Minho caught Jonghyun’s shoulders and wrestled him back, giving Onew enough space to step from the wall. He reached down and grabbed his cell phone, checking it for damage and sliding it back into his pocket before he gave Jonghyun any further attention. He waited for Jonghyun to start speaking.

“Did you let them take him?”

“They came here with two SWAT teams, Jonghyun, what was I supposed to do? They can’t hold him. All they’re going to do is demand to know what he knows.”

“Which is, what, exactly?” Key asked.

“ _Nothing_ ,” Jonghyun snapped. He knew he should be staying calm. Onew was right. They had nothing to hold him on. As far as he knew, Taemin had never gotten in trouble for anything. Key was still giving him that look and Jonghyun sighed forcefully, running his hand through his hair. “He knows who I am. He knows who we are, but as far as he knows, Onew’s as high as we go. He doesn’t know of any of our ties elsewhere. I’m not stupid, Kibum.”

“You’re sure proving that,” Key retorted.

“Just give him a few days. If he’s not back by then, we’ll start doing some looking. Until then, stay out of it.”

“Let me talk to some of the people we own on the force--”

“Not yet,” Onew said. “You’ve been neglecting your  _real job_  anyway. I was willing to put up with it then, but if you want any of the others to let Taemin stay, you’re going to have to prove you’re not endangering any of us.”

It did feel good to be back to work, but the two days that they spent working without any word from Taemin was almost intolerable. The third day he got a terse call from Key, telling him to come back immediately. He wouldn’t tell Jonghyun why, but Jonghyun and Minho made it back to the hotel in record time, running up the seven flights of stairs to reach the suite.

An unfamiliar man was standing there with his back to the door, dressed in a dark suit, the kind of dark that feds wore. That sent the first real spike of concern through Jonghyun. He’d been worried about Taemin, but only in a general sort of way, not knowing what was happening to him. Now, if the case had been handed over to the feds—

The man turned around, hands in his pockets, and the concern twisted into something… else. A kind of sneaking suspicion that Jonghyun was not willing to examine just yet.

“Taemin?” Jonghyun asked, taking a step toward him. Minho caught his arm, hauling him back, shaking his head quickly.

“Hey, Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun shook Minho off and pulled Taemin into his arms. He was more than a little relieved that Taemin returned the gesture, holding him tight for a few seconds. He pulled away sooner than he usually did though, his hand staying loose in Jonghyun’s.

“Why don’t you tell Jjong what you’ve been telling us?” Key suggested lightly, but his tone didn’t sound friendly at all.

Jonghyun looked up from Taemin’s face, Onew was standing with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. It was the look Jonghyun had become familiar with last April, when the word of traitors had begun to spread.

Taemin pulled a little bit away, reaching into a pocket in his jacket. He pressed a folded leather wallet into Jonghyun’s hand and then stood quietly, head bowed. Jonghyun flipped it open, heart sinking. He’d seen these before.

He’d never seen this badge in person, but he recognized it immediately. He snapped the wallet shut and shoved it against Taemin’s chest. He caught it and slipped it back into his pocket, face impassive.

“Interpol?” Jonghyun demanded, drawing further away. “You’re fucking  _Interpol_?”

Taemin nodded. “They’re taking me off the case. I’m getting shipped back to Lyon for ‘disciplinary action.’ Apparently it’s bad form for an agent to sleep with his mark. We’ll see what happens when they find out I actually fell in love with you.”

“You know, coming here, you might never even make it Lyon,” Jonghyun said, disregarding the last part of what Taemin had said. The other three men in the room had fallen silent, apparently content to let Jonghyun handle this himself. It was just as well. This was  _his_  business.

“There’s a car outside,” Taemin said with a shrug. “They followed me here from my apartment. I expect they’ll give me another two or three minutes before they come to get me. Don’t want me skipping out on that fun little hearing.”

“So that family that you were staying with…”

“Really mine,” Taemin said. “It wasn’t so hard to convince them to pretend I was a student at the university. They all wished I’d gone there anyway, rather than heading out to train at the police academy straight out of school.”

There was a soft beeping noise and Taemin pulled his phone out of his pocket. He gave Jonghyun an apologetic smile and answered it. “Hello?” A slight pause, and then, “I’ll be out in just a second, yes. The jet’s ready?” He laughed bitterly. “My own personal jet, huh? Okay.” He ended the call and slipped it back into his pocket. “Any more questions?”

Yeah, Jonghyun had a lot of questions. At least twenty or thirty, but the only thing he could think to ask was, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five,” Taemin said easily. “I look young for my age, don’t I? If they ever let me out of prison, maybe I’ll see you around.”


	5. Chapter 5

It had been almost three months and Jonghyun was starting to forget Taemin. Well, he was getting to be good enough at lying to himself that he could almost,  _almost_ pretend he was forgetting him. He took a string of mediocre lovers with nights of mediocre sex, and most of the time he could pretend he didn’t want to see Taemin beneath him instead.

They’d survived a quick war, almost too quick to be considered one, in the wake of word spreading about Taemin. Leeteuk had, unsurprisingly, been pissed, but there was enough friendship between the two groups that he’d finally accepted that Jonghyun didn’t know and put the brakes on the whole thing. Minho had gotten away with a bullet wound in the thigh that had managed to avoid his bone and Jonghyun sported two new scars from run-ins with Kyuhyun. The other two were physically fine.

The situation with Taemin had rocked their group, and Onew had refused to let Jonghyun work for just two weeks. It was Leeteuk’s declaration of war that finally had convinced Onew to let Jonghyun out of the hotel.

It had been almost three months and Jonghyun was nowhere near forgetting Taemin.

He was always so preoccupied with Taemin that he almost didn’t notice that the man in the torn jeans and t-shirt looked  _too much_  like him. It wasn’t until the man pulled up short, eyes going wide, body freezing and feet twisting to run that Jonghyun realized who it was. He was a far cry from the Taemin he’d seen three months earlier, composed in his suit, talking too casually about what would happen to him in Lyon. This Taemin was thinner, ragged. He actually looked afraid of Jonghyun, which was… new. Jonghyun didn’t think he liked it.

“J-Jonghyun,” Taemin said, eyes flicking around as though looking for the rest of the gang, or, possibly, an escape route.

“I thought you were in Lyon.” Mentally, Jonghyun grimaced. Those had not been the words he rehearsed when he imagined seeing Taemin again.

“I was. For three months. They just released me. I’ve been, well, I guess ‘dishonorably discharged’ is as good a term as any.”

“Jail?”

“Technically.” There was a long, awkward pause in their conversation. Taemin’s arms wrapped around himself. “I-I’m cold, so if you don’t mind…”

Before he thought about what he was doing, Jonghyun was tugging his jacket off. He paused for just a second, realizing that he was about to give an Interpol agent his jacket, but Taemin looked just about frozen, his lips tinged blue. He was flexing his fingers as though they hurt, which Jonghyun didn’t doubt they did. His hands were cold and they’d been in the relative warmth of his jacket until he saw Taemin. He slipped the jacket over Taemin’s shoulders.

Taemin flinched as though expecting Jonghyun to hit him, but he accepted the jacket, hunching down into it and pulling it tight around him. Jonghyun took Taemin’s hands between his and breathed on them, rubbing them to try to get some warmth back in his fingers. Taemin flinched from that as well. He pulled his hands free within a few seconds, casting a nervous glance around them.

“Jonghyun, don’t. They’re still… I’m under no illusions. I know what happens to both of us if they see us together.”

“Interpol or the other gangs?”

Taemin laughed bitterly, shrugging out of Jonghyun’s jacket and holding it out. “Thank you, but… I’ve got to get going.”

He made to step around Jonghyun, but Jonghyun caught his wrist. Taemin tried to pull away, but Jonghyun was having none of it. “Where are you going dressed like that?”

“Just… Leave it, Jonghyun, please.”

“The hell I will,” Jonghyun said, finally getting angry. If Taemin had betrayed him, had  _lied_  to him the entire time, had tricked him into the coffee shop that very first fucking day, he at least deserved to be doing better than this. “Come with me.”

“No,” Taemin said, pulling against Jonghyun. “No, Jonghyun, please. This isn’t—You don’t know what--”

“I don’t… Taemin,  _stop_. Jesus, I’m not going to hurt you. Just come with me.”

Taemin gradually stopped fighting him, even letting Jonghyun throw the jacket back over his shoulders. Jonghyun led him to his apartment. He never used it, but the place was rented in a fake name, paid several months in advance, and nobody asked any questions. It was cold, but certainly warmer than outside. He cranked the heat when he got there and led Taemin to the couch, replacing the jacket with a warmer blanket.

Exactly as he had done with the jacket, Taemin’s fingers twisted around the fabric, pulling it around him. He hunched his shoulders and ducked his head, scrunching up on himself until he was  _tiny_. Jonghyun didn’t quite know what to do.

“Why weren’t you wearing a jacket?”

“I don’t have one,” Taemin whispered, his voice quivering.

“You had one last winter.”

“They’re all at my parents’ house. I don’t have anything.”

“Are you stupid?” Jonghyun demanded, grabbing Taemin’s chin and jerking his head up until he was looking Jonghyun in the eye. “You’re in the right city. Just go over there and get one.”

Taemin shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not? If this is some sort of messed-up pride thing--”

Taemin stood, letting the blanket drop from his shoulders. “It’s not… You can’t possibly understand. Thank you, Jonghyun, I’ll be going now.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Taemin’s hand hesitated on the doorknob. “Yesterday. They froze all my assets.”

Jonghyun swore, feeling something inside him crumple. Taemin was so different, so uncertain. It actually hurt. He came up behind Taemin and wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his chin on Taemin’s shoulder. The younger man stiffened, trying to step away.

“Jonghyun,  _please_ , d--”

Jonghyun turned Taemin slowly in his arms until they were facing one another. He put his fingers beneath Taemin’s chin and raised his gaze, more gently this time. “Please what?”

Taemin’s eyes closed. “Please kiss me.”

That Jonghyun was more than willing to do. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Taemin’s. They were chapped and still cold, but he could at least warm them up. It took him a few seconds of coaxing before Taemin parted his lips, letting Jonghyun kiss him properly. It was like stepping into a familiar room, warm and comforting. For the most part, Taemin stood passive, kissing him back, but without any of the passion Jonghyun remembered feeling.

“What did they do to you?” Jonghyun asked, kissing Taemin’s forehead before he stepped back.

“Not as much as they could have,” Taemin said, letting Jonghyun lead him back to the couch. He was still skittish, but at least he wasn’t trying to run away. “There was something going on with the Secretary General and it made my… transgressions… seem a little bit less severe. They kept me in a tiny apartment in South Africa for three months. It’s temporary housing for agents, but it serves well enough as a holding facility while they decide what to do with the rest of us. They made it clear what would happen if I made contact with you or my family before they decided I had been well and thoroughly punished.”

“What?” Jonghyun asked, brushing a lock of hair from Taemin’s face.

Taemin laughed. “Freezing assets is easy. It’s not so bad if it’s just you, but my parents still have my younger sister, and two of my grandparents are still alive. You… They’re still trying to find some way to arrest the four of you, but you guys cover your tracks well. Too well. They think I helped you.”

“I didn’t know you were Interpol until you shoved that badge in my face.”

Taemin shrugged and for the first time Jonghyun saw the dancer’s grace he was used to seeing. “That’s what I said. Why would they believe me though?” As though predicting what Jonghyun was going to say next, Taemin gave him a small smile. “And what good would you be? Stepping into Interpol headquarters in Seoul and proclaiming that you had no idea who I was? They’d arrest you on sight and  _then_ find some reason to hold you.”

Jonghyun dug his phone out of his pocket. “What do you want to eat?”

Taemin looked away. “I… Jonghyun, you shouldn’t be doing this for me.”

“You’re right. If you were anyone else who betrayed me, lied to me, lied to  _my face_ , I would have already killed you. Here’s the thing though. You’re not anyone else. You’re Taemin and I’ve spent the last three months torturing myself over you. It’s…” Jonghyun groaned, rubbing at his forehead. He was going to end up with Onew’s headaches if he wasn’t careful. “Just tell me what you want.”

Taemin opened his mouth and then closed it hard enough that Jonghyun could hear Taemin’s teeth snapping together, looking away. Jonghyun frowned, but before he could ask what he was going to say, Taemin said, “I don’t care. I haven’t eaten much of anything lately.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jonghyun grumbled. He dialed one of the numbers he had saved in his phone, not even knowing which one it was until they answered. He ordered more food than the two of them could eat in days, despite Taemin’s soft protests, and then hung up after they promised to call when they got to the building.

“We need to talk, you and I.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” Taemin said.

“I have two questions for you and you need to answer both of them honestly or I’m sending you on your way with the food and I’m done with you.”

“You might not like the answers you get.”

Jonghyun pursed his lips, eyeing Taemin. That much was true, he supposed. “Will you answer them honestly?”

“You already know everything else about me,” Taemin said. “I’m yours for the asking.”

“Are you Interpol now? Is this whole broken and starving thing an act?”

Taemin’s chin rose as though Jonghyun had personally offended him. “I am not broken.”

“Just answer the fucking question.”

“No,” Taemin said. For a second Jonghyun thought he was refusing to answer. “I’m not Interpol. They fired me and there’s no way they’d take me back, even if I delivered the four of you with confessions you’d stand by in court. I’m not trustworthy anymore. What’s your second question?”

“The last thing you said to me. One of the last things.” Jonghyun had to pause to swallow. “You said you’d fallen in love with me.”

“That’s not a question,” Taemin said, the tiniest lilt of amusement in his voice. “But yes. I had fallen in love with you.”

“And are you still--” Jonghyun almost cursed when his phone started ringing that the food had arrived. He sent Taemin a sharp look, ordering him to stay where he was, and went downstairs to get it.

The rest of the question had to wait until Taemin had finished eating. He looked so famished, but he waited for Jonghyun to set it up, hands rubbing at his knees. He ate slowly, trying to match the pace Jonghyun set. It was heart wrenching to see him trying so hard to pretend everything was normal and that he wasn’t starving.

Jonghyun stopped eating long enough to watch him, but Taemin noticed before too many more bites and stopped as well, blinking at him.

“What?”

Jonghyun picked up a piece of meat and held it out for Taemin. “Go ahead.”

Taemin eyed him suspiciously, but leaned forward to accept the food. It took a while, but eventually Taemin announced that he was full. He hadn’t eaten quite as much as Jonghyun had expected, but it gave him a few more moments to think while he packaged up the food and slipped it into the empty refrigerator.

“Where have you been sleeping?” Jonghyun asked.

“I have some friends who are willing to keep me for a night or two.”

Jonghyun swore. “Get some sleep. The bedroom’s right there.”

“No, I need to go.”

“Go  _where_?” Jonghyun demanded. “We checked your apartment. They leased it before you were even out of the country. Your parents can’t know you’re back. From what I’m gathering, you don’t have a job. Just sleep here for the night. You’ll be safe.”

He could tell Taemin wanted to argue, but with a full stomach of food his eyes were drooping closed. Jonghyun helped him into the bedroom, leaving him with an armful of clean clothes. He waited fifteen minutes until he was sure Taemin would be asleep before he pulled his phone and dialed Key’s number.

“Where are you?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” Jonghyun said. “You need to tell Onew that I’ll be late.”

“Late.”

“Like… tomorrow late.”

“If this is so you can hook up with one of your skeevy skanks--”

“It’s not.”

Key was silent for a few seconds. “Jonghyun, what’s going on?”

Jonghyun flopped down into the couch, grimacing when it slid across the wooden floor. “You can’t tell Onew about this.”

“Jjong, what the hell is going on?”

“It’s Taemin. He’s back.”

A pause. “Are you burying him in the park or something?”

“No.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. It wasn’t that long ago that you were telling me, in graphic detail, all of the ways you would maim and kill him. Now… what?”

“Kibum, I love him.”

“No. No you fucking don’t. Jjong, he’s  _Interpol_.”

“Not anymore he’s not. I can’t just leave him like this.”

Key made an extremely frustrated sound and then the line went dead. Jonghyun dropped the phone on the couch and raked his hands through his hair. Against his better judgment, he walked to the bedroom, cracking the door open. Taemin was lying on his side, resting his head on one arm, the other arm outstretched to the side.

He walked to the edge of the bed and sat down, running his fingers across Taemin’s cheek. Taemin stirred slightly, making a soft sound. Jonghyun watched Taemin sleep for a few more minutes, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the light flick of his fingers as he dreamt. It was enough to make something painful rise in Jonghyun’s throat and he stood to leave, but a hand caught his wrist, drawing him back. He looked down to see Taemin blinking up at him.

“Stay.”

Jonghyun tried very hard to refuse but in the end he stripped out of his jeans and shirt and climbed beneath the covers, wrapping an arm around Taemin. He rolled over and settled his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder, right on top of the snake tattoo, slinging his arm around Jonghyun’s waist. Jonghyun fell asleep like that, comfortable for the first time in months.

He woke to the sensation of fingers trailing across his waist. He was confused for a second, but as soon as he realized the fingers were tracing a tattoo he remembered where he was and what had happened.

“Jonghyun?” Taemin whispered. “Are you awake?”

He nodded, eyes opening to look directly into Taemin’s. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

Taemin looked away, hand still running along the planes and dips of Jonghyun’s chest and stomach. “I’m so sorry.”

It would have been trite for Jonghyun to ask what he was sorry for. He just shrugged.

“I never meant… The agency knew you took lovers of both genders, so they figured it was worth a try… for me to flirt with you a little, see if you would open up. You didn’t. They were going to pull me off the case anyway, replace me with some pretty girl and see if she had more luck, but then Siwon came to the coffee shop and I left with you. They assumed my cover had been blown. When they found out what really happened, that I was actually in love with you… They naturally thought that the pillow talk went both ways.”

“So they assigned you to me in the hopes that you could seduce me into talking?”

Taemin shook his head. “Sex was never part of the deal. We…  _They_ … don’t work that way. They were hoping you’d brag, give them something they could use. Everything else was me.” Taemin fell silent, watching Jonghyun warily. “Can… never mind. I should get going.”

Jonghyun’s arm tightened around Taemin’s waist. “‘Can’ what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t want to ask. Can…”

“Can you forgive me?”

“No,” Jonghyun said honestly. “I can’t forgive you.” Taemin nodded and tried to pull away from him again, but Jonghyun held him firm. “You didn’t let me finish. I can’t forgive you, but I also can’t just let you go, Taemin. You’re so… so frustrating. You wouldn’t let me go even when you were however many miles away in France and I thought you were never coming back. I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Let me go,” Taemin said, voice hoarse. “The agency will be tired of this in a month or two and I’ll have my money back, I’ll be able to stay at home until I get another job. I can move to another city.”

Jonghyun pushed himself up on one arm and looked down at Taemin. “And where will you sleep until then?”

“I told you. I have some friends--”

“What are their names?”

Taemin opened his mouth and then hesitated.

“That’s what I figured.”

Jonghyun leaned down, pressing a trail of gentle kisses along Taemin’s neck. Taemin tilted his head back just a bit, but pushed against Jonghyun’s chest as though trying to stop him.

“What are you doing?”

“Convincing you that it’s better to stay here. Safer.” Jonghyun let his teeth rasp against Taemin’s skin. “You’ll like it.”

“I thought…” Taemin’s throat worked as he tried to get words out. “I thought you couldn’t forgive me.”

“No, but I can’t forget you either.” He kissed harder at the skin, leaving a pink mark and drawing a shaky gasp from Taemin’s lips. “I missed you. I missed your lips,” Jonghyun paused to kiss him there, “your hands, your skin.” He mouthed along the collarbone he could see above the hem of the shirt, biting down once and drawing a whine from Taemin’s lips. “The sounds you make when I made you feel good. Still want to leave?”

“I-I should.”

Jonghyun slid his hand up Taemin’s stomach, pushing his shirt. He lowered his lips to Taemin’s too-thin stomach, leaving open-mouthed kisses all along the skin. Taemin was practically quivering, muscles tensing wherever Jonghyun kissed. He worked the fabric off Taemin’s body, throwing it carelessly aside.

“Nobody else makes you feel like this, Taemin.”

“Th-that’s not the point,” Taemin gasped, tugging Jonghyun up to kiss him. He realized after a moment that wasn’t what he meant to do and pulled away. “I don’t want this.”

Jonghyun sat up, frowning down at Taemin. “So you loved me then, but not now?”

“No. No, that’s not it. I just… I’m going to get you killed.”

Jonghyun grinned, leaning down to put his lips right next to Taemin’s ear. “It’s cute that you think that. Why don’t you let me worry about my health?”

He reached for the waistband of Taemin’s pants, tugging them down when Taemin didn’t offer any resistance. He licked his palm and took Taemin’s half-hard arousal in his hand, stroking him slowly.

A cry spilled from Taemin’s lips even from that first touch. He bit his lips, tossing his head back, and Jonghyun had forgotten how beautiful that was. He sped up his movements just a bit and Taemin’s back arched, his hand catching Jonghyun’s wrist, not to stop him, just to touch him.

“Jjong,” Taemin whispered, “please.”

“Please?” Jonghyun teased. “Please what? Please stop?”

Taemin gave him one of those looks he remembered from the coffee shop, a sharp look that was always his signal that whatever story he was spinning had traveled so far from the realm of reality that Taemin had only been humoring him for at least the last ten minutes.

“I don’t have anything here,” Jonghyun said apologetically, leaning in to kiss Taemin’s neck.

“I don’t care.”

Jonghyun just laughed. “You would start to care pretty quick.”

He worked his way out of the rest of his clothes, arranging himself on top of Taemin so their cocks were rubbing and took both in his hand, running his thumb across the heads. Taemin gasped, rocking into the touch. Even Jonghyun had to moan at that, the way it felt to have Taemin dragging against him, the heat from his body.

He braced himself with one elbow on the bed, just above Taemin’s shoulder and let their bodies roll together, Taemin’s hips doing those ridiculous movements that made Jonghyun’s vision go a little fuzzy every time. Their kisses got messier, half-meetings of lip and tongue until their lips were almost just resting together, catching sharp moans and gasps.

This was not what Jonghyun had had in mind whenever he imagined seeing Taemin again.

Taemin’s breath was coming fast, his nails digging into Jonghyun’s lower back. He repeated Jonghyun’s name again and again, like it was some kind of prayer, teeth digging into his lip whenever Jonghyun did something particularly pleasurable with his hand. Jonghyun could see that he was close, could almost feel it as his cries started to get louder, unrestrained. He grabbed a fistful of Jonghyun’s hair and wrenched his mouth down.

Jonghyun kissed him, hard and unforgiving. Their teeth clicked, they bit their lips, their tongues twisted and fought. It was better than anything Jonghyun had experienced in the last three months.

The younger man wrenched his head away, drawing in a ragged breath. “Jonghyun, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s done,” Jonghyun said, pausing to suck at the soft skin beneath Taemin’s ear. “Stop thinking about it.”

“I love you,” Taemin said, moments before he arched beneath Jonghyun and came between them, the sensation sending Jonghyun tumbling after him, forehead resting at the juncture of Taemin’s neck and shoulder.

Jonghyun held himself there for a few more seconds, trying to compose himself. He managed to roll over and find some discarded piece of clothing to wipe them both off and then flung it aside, accepting Taemin back into his arms.

“Onew’s not going to be too keen on this.”

Taemin was silent and when Jonghyun looked down at him, he had his hands pressed over his face. Jonghyun pulled at Taemin’s wrist, trying to get him to look up, but Taemin just turned his head, burying his face in the pillow.

“Taeminnie, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Taemin shook his head, still hiding from Jonghyun’s gaze. “If anything happens to you, it’ll be my fault.”

“You’re paranoid,” Jonghyun affirmed. “Completely. Taemin, I’m a big boy. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. Your biggest tribulations were when someone told you your clothes were last year’s style when I started doing this. Believe me. I can take care of myself. I’ll bring Onew around.”

Truthfully, Jonghyun had no idea how he was going to do that.


	6. Chapter 6

Jonghyun dozed with Taemin wrapped firmly in his arms, the younger man’s head resting on his chest, arm tight around his waist. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, content to memorize the way Taemin felt, the way he breathed while he was asleep, but he must have. He was woken by his phone ringing near his ear, screaming some popular song that Kibum had chosen. Taemin stirred, but Jonghyun shushed him, pressing his lips to Taemin’s jaw to quiet him. He pressed the button to answer his phone and realized as he was pressing it against his ear that the caller ID had read, “Leader.”

“Hello.”

“Jonghyun.” Onew’s voice was hard and very, very angry. “Where are you?”

“My apartment.”

“Get back here.”

“I’m--”

“ _Now_.”

The line went dead and Jonghyun threw the phone aside, hearing it clatter against the chair and then to the floor. Taemin sat up, the blanket falling off his chest to pool at his waist. Jonghyun pressed his hand to the pale skin of his chest, lowering his lips to press against Taemin’s collarbone.

“What was that?”

“Onew. He wants me back at the hotel.” Jonghyun caught Taemin’s wrist and pulled it out from beneath him, sending him tumbling back to the bed. He rolled them over, hovering above him. “I have to go.”

Taemin’s lips twisted in disappointment. Jonghyun leaned down to kiss him, once, quick and gentle.

“Will you be here?”

“Yes.”

“Swear to me.”

Taemin wrapped his hand around Jonghyun’s wrist, running his thumb up and down the soft skin of Jonghyun’s inner wrist. “I will be here. Maybe not right  _here_  in bed, but definitely in the apartment.”

“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Jonghyun had to return to the bed multiple times before he finished dressing, several times to kiss Taemin senseless and a time or two to just run his fingers across Taemin’s skin and remind himself that he was there.

He kissed him again, twice, before he left. It wasn’t a long trip to the hotel, but it was long enough for Jonghyun to get thoroughly concerned about what Onew wanted. He was fairly certain it had to do with Taemin. Of course it had to do with Taemin.

Even so, Jonghyun took the elevator up, rather than the stairs. The elevator was slow, frustratingly slow, but it was better than going up the stairs and facing him that much sooner. The door was closed, locked, even. They rarely locked the door, and that sent a shudder of foreboding through Jonghyun’s frame. He knocked once and the sound had hardly faded when it opened, Minho’s face peering at him through the crack.

He didn’t look all that happy to see Jonghyun, but stepped aside to let him in. He figured out why pretty quickly. Kibum was standing a few feet to the side, a hand pressed to his side and a dribble of blood trickled down his chin. His eyes were downcast, although they flicked up to see Jonghyun, but then back down again. As Jonghyun was watching he pressed the heel of his hand to his lip, grimacing.

Onew caught a fistful of Jonghyun’s shirt, shoving him back. Jonghyun stumbled a time or two until his back hit a wall, his head snapping back at the same time. Onew didn’t give him time to nurse his pain or come up with any sort of decent defense.

“What the  _fuck_  do you think you’re doing? He’s Interpol, you know he’s Interpol, and you’re  _still fucking him_?”

Jonghyun opened his mouth to respond, even got half a word out before Onew’s fist hit him hard in the stomach, doubling him over as much as he could with Onew’s hand still holding him in place. The second punch tore the inside of Jonghyun’s lower lip against his teeth, spilling blood into his mouth. He expected a third, but it didn’t come, Onew stepping back and rubbing a smear of blood from his knuckles.

“You’re going to get us all killed, Jonghyun. You almost got Kibum and Minho already. Trying to make it a straight run? All of us?”

“No, that’s--”

“Then what are you doing with him? We’ll find you another boy to screw if that’s what you want. Turn this one over to one of the other families, let them deal with him.”

“He was freezing; he could have died. What was I supposed to do?” Jonghyun asked, the words spilling out of his mouth in desperation.

“Let him. This isn’t like you.” Onew hit him hard, low in the stomach, right where the rope passed below his navel. “Didn’t you talk big when you got this? How this tied you to us? Your brothers?”

“It’s--”

“Shut up.”

Jonghyun had no choice but to do as ordered, still tasting the coppery tang of blood on his tongue. He wanted to spit it out, but with Onew so close to him, all he could do was swallow and feel it roil in his stomach. He stood there for a few seconds, head bowed and one arm crossed protectively over his stomach.

“What are you going to do about him?”

“Keep him safe,” Jonghyun swore, finally daring to raise his eyes to Onew’s. His leader’s lips tightened and Jonghyun felt himself flinching further back into the wall before he could stop himself. “You don’t  _understand_ ,” he tried desperately. “I tried to let him go. I let him go to Lyon--”

“When you should have killed him. When you would have killed anyone else.”

“Now he’s back and he was starving and freezing. He’s not one of them anymore, Jinki, I know he’s not.”

“And when he betrays us this time?”

“He won’t.”

“When he does?”

Jonghyun closed his eyes and said the only thing that he knew Onew would allow. The worst part was, he thought he may not have been lying. “I’ll take care of it. If he does it again, I’ll kill him myself.”

The tension in the room eased just a little. “We’ll have to think of something to say to the other leaders.”

He almost didn’t dare to hope that Onew meant what it sounded like he meant. He glanced up at him and saw just the slightest bit of softening in his leader’s eyes. Before he had a chance to ask what it meant, he felt his phone ringing in his pocket, that stupid song coming out tinny from the fabric of his jeans.

Onew released him, stepping back and gesturing for him to answer it. He dug it out of his pocket and glanced at the number. It was familiar, but it had no accompanying name. He hit the button to answer it and held it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun frowned. That sounded like Leeteuk, but he had no idea how the other man had gotten his number. He supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him, really. Whatever information Leeteuk wanted, he found some way to get.

“Leeteuk?”

“I think we need to talk.”

There was the sharp sound of a fist hitting flesh, a sound he knew too well to mistake it for anything else. It was followed by the sound of a cry that, although Jonghyun had never heard before, Jonghyun knew he would recognize anywhere and everywhere. Taemin. He heard another hit and another cry. His hand tightened on the phone until the edges bit into his palms.

For the first time since he stepped into the room, Kibum moved. He skirted Onew by a few steps, but came to Jonghyun’s side, his head close enough for him to hear Leeteuk’s voice coming through the phone.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know why you thought it was okay to bring the little brat back into your family, Jonghyun.”

“Where is he? I swear, if you lay another  _finger_  on him--”

He was cut off by another cry, almost a sob, muffled. Jonghyun didn’t want to know what they were doing to him. He knew what he would do—what he had done—and imagining Taemin in the place of those men…

“Come by our place. We’ll talk.”

“Let me talk to him.”

There was a pause and Jonghyun didn’t think Leeteuk was actually going to let him, but there was a rustle and then Taemin’s voice. It was rough, ragged, and Jonghyun didn’t think that the sounds he’d heard before were part of a show put on for his benefit.

“Jonghyun?”

“Taeminnie? Are you okay?”

Taemin gave a small, pained laugh and didn’t bother to answer. Jonghyun supposed he could have asked a better question.

“I’m coming for you, little one. I’m going to come get you.”

“I love you,” Taemin said, but there was a brief rustle and one last, loud, cry from Taemin.

“There. You’ve talked to him. You know where to go.”

The phone went dead and Jonghyun resisted the urge to throw it across the room in frustration. Kibum took the phone from him, prying it from Jonghyun’s fingers and setting it down on the table, helping Jonghyun ease down into a chair. He squeezed Jonghyun’s shoulder reassuringly.

“What’s going on?” Onew asked.

“Leeteuk has Taemin. I don’t know how.”

“What did he want?”

“To ‘talk.’” Jonghyun made half-hearted air-quotes around the word. They all knew how that would go down.

“So what do we do?” Minho asked, drawing their attention over to him. He’d come to Onew’s side and was watching them were a serious expression. At Jonghyun’s surprise she shrugged. “Well we’re not leaving him there?”

Onew gave them all a weary look, fingers reaching for his forehead. Jonghyun dug in his pocket for a painkiller before he even heard Onew’s next words.

“Let me make some calls. I’ll see what I can do.”

Jonghyun pressed the small pill into Onew’s hand as his leader started dialing a number into his phone with his other hand. He leaned back, conscious of Kibum’s fingers in his hair.

“We’ll get him back, Jonghyun,” Key promised.

Jonghyun nodded. “Yeah.”


	7. Chapter 7

Jonghyun barely waited for Heechul to open the door before he sprinted into the darkened room, leaving the rest of them in the hallway. He didn’t bother to even acknowledge Leeteuk as he dropped to his knees by the crumpled boy in the corner. He could hear Onew, Minho, and Kibum following, but he paid them no attention, taking Taemin’s bowed head in his hands.

“Taeminnie? Taemin, can you hear me?” Taemin stirred briefly, eyes fluttering. “What did you do to him? Why isn’t he waking up?”

“We only did what we had to do to ensure that he wasn’t lying. You should understand that.”

Jonghyun glared over his shoulder at Leeteuk, arms curling protectively around Taemin’s shaking body.

“We’re taking him back with us,” Onew said. It wasn’t often that Jonghyun heard that tone in his voice, and was more than glad it wasn’t directed at him.

But Leeteuk wasn’t a pushover. He’d wrenched control of his men from the previous leader, and he was easily ten years dead by now. Onew was good, but Leeteuk was better. And if it weren’t for the fact that Onew had called in a  _lot_ of favors, they wouldn’t even have made it inside the building, and Jonghyun wouldn’t have his arms around Taemin right now.

“You’ve gotten everything out of him that you’re getting,” Kibum said, the faint accent Jonghyun could read as fury back in his voice. “Look at him!”

“He’s Interpol,” Heechul said, and Jonghyun could feel the rest of the room tensing. He ignored it in favor of trying to find a place on Taemin’s face that wasn’t bruised. “You think they’re not trained for this?”

“He’s not Interpol anymore,” Kibum snapped and Onew made a soft, shushing sound. Jonghyun finally found a place, low on Taemin’s jaw, where he could rest his thumb without causing too much pain.

“Baby,” Jonghyun whispered, moving his lips close to Taemin’s ear. “Taeminnie, little one, can you hear me?”

“Jjong?”

Jonghyun exhaled sharply, breath rushing out of him. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. I’m so sorry, Taemin.”

Taemin’s eyes opened, one badly reddened, and looked Jonghyun over. There was a moment where Jonghyun could see nothing in his face, but suddenly a wave of relief washed over him and he thought he could see tears sparkling in Taemin’s eyes.

“You came.”

“Of course I did,” Jonghyun said, shifting slightly on his knees. The movement brushed Taemin’s shoulder and he let out a small cry of pain. “I’m sorry, Taemin. I’m sorry. I’m taking you home with me, okay? We’re getting you home.”

“I don’t have a home,” Taemin mumbled, eyes having closed again.

“You have one now. You’re coming home with me. Come on, little one, keep talking to me. I love you.”

Taemin’s eyes opened again, a perplexed look on his face. “Really?”

“Really what? That I love you? Of course I do.”

He closed his eyes, letting his head rest back against the wall. “That’s the first time you’ve said that to me.”

Jonghyun realized, suddenly, that Taemin was right. He kissed the spot on Taemin’s jaw that looked least damaged. “It’s all right, little one. I’m going to get you home, and then I can tell you I love you all the time.”

A soft smile quirked Taemin’s lips, but he remained silent. Onew had apparently won the debate, because Leeteuk’s men were drawing off, with the exception of Heechul and Leeteuk himself, and Minho came to his side.

“Let’s get him up. Kibum’s calling to have the doctor waiting for us at the hotel.”

Between the two of them, they got Taemin to his feet, Jonghyun’s heart wrenching every time the younger man whimpered. They eased him into the car and Jonghyun finally got a good look at him while the others climbed in.

He’d already been way too damn skinny when Jonghyun found him on the street and he’d seen the bruising on his face, but now in the weak winter sunlight, he looked even worse. The bruising extended down his throat and beneath the dirtied shirt he wore. One shoulder looked  _wrong_ in the way only badly dislocated joints could look, the one Jonghyun had brushed earlier. He was barefoot and there were thick red weals wrapping around Taemin’s wrists and ankles, rope marks.

“How long was I there?” Taemin whispered, reaching blindly for Jonghyun. Jonghyun caught his hand and pressed it to his cheek.

“Three days. Leeteuk met with us two days ago, but he wouldn’t let us in. Jinki had to call in every favor anyone ever owed us, just to get us in.”

“Oh,” Taemin murmured. He curled a little closer to Jonghyun, resting his cheek against Jonghyun’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Jonghyun kissed the top of Taemin’s head, figuring that was a safer place than anywhere else. “Of course I came for you. I will always come for you. We’re almost back to the hotel and then as soon as the doctor looks you over, you can sleep.”

Taemin nodded vaguely and Jonghyun kissed him again. Kibum leaned over the back of the seat in front of them to catch Jonghyun’s attention.

“Is he okay?” Kibum whispered.

Jonghyun shrugged with one shoulder, left hand pressed protectively to Taemin’s hip. “He’s really out of it.”

The two of them glanced down at Taemin, who didn’t even stir in response to their conversation. Kibum shifted slightly and then sighed. “The doctor will take care of him. He’s patched us all up plenty of times.”

Jonghyun nodded, his right thumb running across the top of Taemin’s thumb. “Yeah.”

The conversation stopped until the car rolled to a halt behind the hotel. The doctor was waiting at the door with his newest assistant, who looked as though he had been relegated to carrying the bags. Minho hopped out of the car and opened the door for Kibum and Jonghyun to help Taemin out. The doctor looked a little surprised when he saw Taemin, but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

“Which room do you want me to set him up in?”

“Mine,” Jonghyun said, working his way through the door. Taemin was silent for the trip, stepping on his own only occasionally. The rest of them followed, holding doors and helping the best they could until Jonghyun eased Taemin down onto the bed. He leaned down to kiss his forehead one more time.

“Taemin?”

Taemin’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Jonghyun’s face. “Yeah?”

“We’re leaving you with our doctor now. He’s going to take care of you, okay, little one? You’re at the hotel, in my room. I’ll be back soon, okay? I love you.”

“We need to go, Jjong,” Key said, catching Jonghyun by the elbow. “Let the doctor look him over.”

They were left waiting for over an hour. Onew headed to his room to nurse a headache after the first five minutes, Jonghyun handing him a pill absently. He paced and paced and paced and paced until Kibum had finally had enough and grabbed Jonghyun’s shoulders, forcing him down onto a chair and refusing to let him stand until the door opened and the doctor stepped through.

“Is he--”

“He’s okay,” the doctor said. “Battered and bruised, but as far as I can tell, just fine. No worse than any of you have had, and better than most of you have given out. He’s tired, so  _let him sleep_.”

“Can I see him?”

“I don’t think I could stop you at this point,” the doctor said, “but let him sleep as much as you can. I’ll be getting some antibiotics--”

Jonghyun ignored him and sprinted toward his room, fumbling with the key until he got the door open and stumbled into the room. Taemin was lying on the bed, chest rising and falling in deep, easy breaths. Jonghyun stood there for a few seconds just to watch him sleep. Aside from the bruising he looked peaceful. It looked like some of the bruises had been dirt from his captivity, but there were still more than enough to make Jonghyun feel sick.

He crossed the room and eased himself beneath the blankets at Taemin’s side. The younger man didn’t wake, but before too long he was pressed up against Jonghyun’s chest, head resting on his shoulder and one arm slung around Jonghyun’s waist. He had dark bruises along his torso.

Jonghyun was content to lay there for as long as he needed to, but within a few minutes, Taemin’s dark eyes were watching him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Jonghyun said, resting his palm against Taemin’s cheek. “How’re you feeling?”

“The doctor gave me something for the pain,” he said. “It’s nice.”

Jonghyun snorted in response, burying his face in Taemin’s hair. “You’re funny when you’re all drugged up.”

“Shut up,” Taemin whined.

“I love you,” Jonghyun said. “I’m sorry I got you into all this, but get some sleep now, okay? Otherwise the doctor won’t let me be in here.”

Taemin nodded, the arm around Jonghyun’s waist pulling tighter to keep him from leaving. Jonghyun smiled and let him hold him in place, intertwining their fingers. He stayed with him that night, and didn’t get up until the next morning when the doctor came in to check on Taemin.

The doctor’s orders were that he stay in bed for three more days, long enough to ensure that the bruising was superficial and there were no serious internal injuries. Taemin slept for the first two, waking up long enough to take whatever pills Jonghyun pressed into his hand and to eat a few bites of food. However, by the third, Taemin was awake, sitting in the bed and begging for Jonghyun to let him up for just a little while.

“I’m fine. Call the doctor and tell him I’m fine.”

Jonghyun shook his head, hiding a smile. “One more day and then you can be up and moving as much as you want.”

Taemin groaned and flopped back down on the bed. “ _Jjong_.”

Jonghyun sat on the edge of the bed, ruffling Taemin’s hair. “That’s not going to work on me, little one.”

“I’m twenty-five, remember?”

He had been meaning to have this conversation with Taemin for the last few days, and Jonghyun supposed this was the right opportunity. Arrangements would need to be made, depending on Taemin’s decision. He caught Taemin’s hand and squeezed it for a moment, bringing the younger man’s eyes back up to him. Taemin sat up, resting his back against the headboard and looking at Jonghyun from beneath his bangs. Despite all his talk, he still got tired easily, a side effect of the injuries, malnourishment, and the medication.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” Jonghyun had to pause to swallow. “I can protect you from Leeteuk and Interpol if you stay with me, but you know who I am. You know what I am. You know the job I do.”

“So?”

“I  _kill people_ , Taemin.”

“I repeat: So?”

“You’re Interpol. You trained with our top government agencies before they recruited you--”

“How do you know that I was with--”

“You are trained to find everything I do physically repulsive.”

Taemin groaned and rubbed at his forehead, a sign Jonghyun had come to recognize as frustration. He sat cross-legged at Jonghyun’s side. “Jonghyun, do you think I was under any sort of illusion who you were when I lurked at the door of the coffee shop for twenty minutes, because a little, static-y voice in my ear told me you were headed down the sidewalk?”

Jonghyun started to answer but Taemin held up his hand, silencing him.

“I saw the tapes, I saw the crime scene photos, I’ve seen the drug trade, I’ve seen the people killed because of it. I saw what you did to the cop who arrested you five years ago, before your prison sentence. I’m not dumb and I’m not a child.”

Again Jonghyun opened his mouth to say something and again Taemin shut him up with a gesture.

“Do you think I spent three months in a tiny apartment with no air conditioning in South Africa because I thought you were some kind of benevolent god or that you were anywhere near ‘seeing the error of your ways’? Because I didn’t really think you were dumb, either.”

“Am I allowed to speak?” Jonghyun asked, smiling slightly.

“Yes,” Taemin said. He kept his face very serious for a whole three seconds before he slumped and started laughing into his hand. “Sorry.”

Jonghyun waited until Taemin pulled his hand away from his face, and then leaned in and kissed him firmly on the lips, bearing him carefully back to the bed. Taemin went willingly, hands clenching in Jonghyun’s shirt and pulling him down.

“Don’t apologize,” Jonghyun said, mouth so close to Taemin that their lips brushed. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

 

**Two Years Later**

 

Taemin was startled from his sleep when the door burst open. The light flicked on and he saw Jonghyun staggering through the door, clutching a bloodied rag to his shoulder. He glanced at the clock. It read just past four in the morning. He stood and caught Jonghyun as he stumbled into Taemin’s arms. He pulled Jonghyun in tight and helped him down onto the bed.

“Are you okay?”

Jonghyun nodded, biting down hard on his lip and curling up on his side. Taemin sat beside him, pulling his shirt off and examining the cut on his shoulder. It was maybe the length of his palm, deep enough that a significant amount of blood had welled to the surface, but it looked to have slowed.

“Oh, it’s not bad at all,” Taemin said, leaning down to kiss Jonghyun’s pale cheek. “Let me… hang on, one second.” He leaned down and dug beneath the bed for his bag. “What happened?”

“Kyuhyun. He’s still a little bit upset about the whole… you fiasco.”

Taemin laughed softly and kissed Jonghyun’s cheek again. “You don’t even need any stitches this time. Let me get this bandage on and you should be fine. How are Minho and Key?”

“Both fine.”

“Good.” He dabbed some antiseptic on the wound, grimacing as Jonghyun hissed in pain, and fixed the bandage in place, kissing the edge of the tape. “There, all fixed. Do you have to talk to Onew?”

“Not until later this morning.”

“Stay with me then.”

Jonghyun slung his good arm around Taemin’s waist and pulled him in, still smelling of blood and sweat. “I would love to do that.”

Taemin hummed in contentment, letting his fingers trail along the characters on the inside of Jonghyun’s wrist. He had a matching tattoo, much to his mother’s astonishment, but where Jonghyun’s read ‘Taemin,’ his read ‘Jonghyun.’


End file.
